I just received some rather troublesome news:
I will no longer be at the Chambers Street Modell's.
No, I haven't been fired...
But I'm no longer at that Modell's on Chambers.

I feel icky. Again.

Why?

Because I no longer stand on the house that I helped build.

The last time I felt so icky was when I left my training store at 42nd Street and Vanderbilt, near Grand Central. The liveliness, the tourists, the comfort of knowing I was a 4 train away no matter where I was in New York. On the flip side, there is the store itself: dead, lifeless, and slow. The associates, well, tended to themselves. I spent most of my days in the stockroom, changing it, rearranging it, and recreating it back to what was said to be its original form. For that first week, that's how I got around to my surroundings. That's how I fitted in. The managers didn't complain; I kept to myself and did the work. Associates were cool, but then again, they had no real reason not to be, either. But, realizing that something better awaited me in the days to come, I picked myself up to realize that hell, I ain't gonna be here forever. So I took it all at face value, and left as queitly as I came. No mushy goodbyes, no elongated thank you's, no comments to the girl I was interested in at the time, nothing. I just picked up the pieces, and left.

Fast foward into today, Friday afternoon, where in a matter of hours, I must go and pick up my check at the store I created. The store I helped arrange, stage, fill, and maintain. A feeling of accomplishment unlike any other. A feeling only a 12 hour shift with some of the best guys around can give you. And you feel like you broke your back a couple of times, but in the long run, it was worth it.
I wasn't there for the grand re-opening of Store #3. I didn't come to work that Thursday until 3PM, where I might have done but one or two MVP cards. I made up for it on the following two days though, where I brought in about 12 MVP cards a day. These things count for something, I guess; just another loyalty card similar to Pathmark and Duane Reade. At least with these guys, once you hit that $400 mark, you know you have money coming to you. I was making sales, restocking shelves, having fun with associates, having the best time of my life. I may have missed Mitchell Modell, and the politicians and superstars and NY1 that might have showed up. But it was feeling of completion, the only true feeling you get after accomplishment, despite them literally being the same thing, that made it happen for me. That's why I kept coming back. On time. To all my shifts,even suggesting overtime if needed. Wonderful head management team, great footwear associates, and even a girl in apparel I want to talk to! I was set!

Then the days dwindled. And so did the sales.
You feel the heat that some associates are gonna head for the door. But you remain loyal to the store. The store you helped build. The store that once again, took it's form and grace. At least, that's how I handled everything. Sure, you weren't too crazy about your direct boss, who's sort of inmature. Sure, you want to stay from the associate who swears she's assistant manager of something and orders you around all the time. But, it was still my store too. And I belong.
It went on like this for a little while. But I was comfortable. I was working; and that was one thing they can always say about me. I found work to do. Why? Not because I was afraid to get fired (at least, not as afraid as everyone else anyway), not because I wanted kiss ass, but because it was my store. If anybody is gonna help maintain the store, it should the ones who helped put it all together, right??
Then I show up to work this week, after a long rest. And 10 people from my department alone were released. Everyone all choked up, wondering if they were next. At least for me, I just went about my business. Then I looked up and noticed that most of my friends weren't there. Maybe they had the morning shift, or it's just their day off, I said, brushing out the possibility that they got the ax. And sure enough, I saw some of my pals yesterday, talking about some of the folks that left. I felt better then, like a safeguard net or something just caught me and held me there.

Then, in a little over an hour ago, Sam Carierri turned the net upside down.
Sure, I'm not fired. But the net is gone still. How? Because I no longer have the feeling of knowing that I know almost everyone in the store I work for. I no longer have the pride that this is the store that I built, and I'm still standing in that house. I gave up a lot of opportunity cost for that house. Almost a full 24-hour day's rest, my television time, my blogger time, my friendship time. That's a lot of time I gave to the house I built. And dammit, I emphasize the fact that this is the house I built despite the fact I did not single-handedly build the house not to take credit, but to prove a point. A family grew here in store #3, and though the trimmings had to be made, much of that family should still exist.

I mean, what could have happened to result to my transferring to the 86th Street Modell's???

The quarrels with that assistant manager wannabe?? The fact I didn't take liking towards my footwear manager's jokes?? The fact that I don't socialize as much as the other associates do?? The fact I'm not as cool as the other associates are?? The fact that I leave as quietly as I arrive?? Hell, what's not stopping the guys at 86th Street from turning the net the same way these people, whom I thought were okay guys to be around with, turned the net on me? Why do I, after coming home 7PM from those twelve hour shifts from those several days ago, feel betrayed? Is it only me with that sense of betrayal?

Okay, granted. What about those who no longer are at Modell's? Well considering the fact that some really didn't care, while others weren't too particularly happy about their circumstances, they pretty much opted out themselves. To believe I did everything right, and the result was nearly the same, is an outrage. It's great news, depending on how you take it,, Sam says. Damn right it depends, because I do care. About that safety net, about that house that I created. About the crew I'm about to leave behind. About that girl I wanted to talk to. Especially the girl.

Perhaps I may never be the same again.
But I don't care, I put my all in that. I'm hatin'!!!